The icing on your cake, the cherry on the top
The unwavering support from her is the only thing keeping him steady throughout all this. That the confusion and misunderstanding didn't devolve into a fight between them is one he's deeply grateful for, because she would not have been in the wrong to find his actions outrageous. He still does, but her explanations are all reasonable. They are troubling in their own right though, because it'd mean someone had targeted him, or Flora by proxy. With her bar reduced to ash it's not a surprising potential, other than the possible continuation of it while they have stayed their hands. It rankles him to consider it, but without proof he supposes it could have equally been a random, harmless prank that sent his evening careening off a cliff. In the end no one was harmed, other than some clothes, but a good cleaning should take care of that.
"You're probably right," he concedes with a roll of his shoulder, trying to leave the unsettling feelings behind them. Glancing down at the bright stretch of her smile, it seems simple enough to do. "I'm just glad you were there to stop me," he sighs into her hair, leaning his head against hers for a step or two, full of such immense gratitude he cannot do anything by try and offer it via osmosis. "Seeing you, and hearing Rupert," his lips twitch with the faintest humor at the result of one thieving toad's presence remaining in his life, "it brought me back." That he'd snapped back into the full appraisal of Asta's horrors did not help smooth over the affair at all, but still, it kept him from diving in deeper to the nightmare of the night and what it could have become if he wasn't stopped then and there.
A low shake of a sound, suspiciously like poorly formed laughter, answers her claim about Asta's fashion as they navigate the walkways. "He does?" He can't withhold the surprise at that revelation. "Huh, I never would have thought," he admits with a shrug, rather preferring Danta's styles. Maybe Asta should take it less seriously, a bit stuffy in his selections and all. "Either way, I should apologize to him. Curse or not, he got the short end of the deal there." His lips press in a bit tighter on the corners, an attempt at keeping back the urge to think about the Ancient's awful haunt in place of the man.
They pass by several peculiar shops in quick succession. TAILS R US seems to only sell accessories for tails, and near it is Ashes ALL Fall Down, which as far as he can discern is a place with various tools for cleaning or arranging all the wood fires and their upkeep for the Ancients. There's what he thinks is a bar based on its design, called 'Til the Last Drop, but the scrawl of its outdoor menu only seems to have various types of bloods being peddled. Luckily their destination lies past all of them, and its very inviting signage has his eyes nearly doubling in size. "MEGA pancakes!?" Turns out there are some good things to discover around here. "Maybe I'll skip eating it and just cozy up with them like a cloud bed. A cloud bed that smells really good." Sans syrup and butter of course, he's not a psychopath. There's also no way he wouldn't be eating it, but a bed made out of pancakes does have a certain appeal to it.
The rain departs as they step under the canopy of the cafe, and after telling the hostess they'd like a table for two, he busies himself brushing off the rain that clings to her back so she won't sit and have it slowly soak through. Though nearby fires dance in ready application of heat and the promise of drying them out.
"You're probably right," he concedes with a roll of his shoulder, trying to leave the unsettling feelings behind them. Glancing down at the bright stretch of her smile, it seems simple enough to do. "I'm just glad you were there to stop me," he sighs into her hair, leaning his head against hers for a step or two, full of such immense gratitude he cannot do anything by try and offer it via osmosis. "Seeing you, and hearing Rupert," his lips twitch with the faintest humor at the result of one thieving toad's presence remaining in his life, "it brought me back." That he'd snapped back into the full appraisal of Asta's horrors did not help smooth over the affair at all, but still, it kept him from diving in deeper to the nightmare of the night and what it could have become if he wasn't stopped then and there.
A low shake of a sound, suspiciously like poorly formed laughter, answers her claim about Asta's fashion as they navigate the walkways. "He does?" He can't withhold the surprise at that revelation. "Huh, I never would have thought," he admits with a shrug, rather preferring Danta's styles. Maybe Asta should take it less seriously, a bit stuffy in his selections and all. "Either way, I should apologize to him. Curse or not, he got the short end of the deal there." His lips press in a bit tighter on the corners, an attempt at keeping back the urge to think about the Ancient's awful haunt in place of the man.
They pass by several peculiar shops in quick succession. TAILS R US seems to only sell accessories for tails, and near it is Ashes ALL Fall Down, which as far as he can discern is a place with various tools for cleaning or arranging all the wood fires and their upkeep for the Ancients. There's what he thinks is a bar based on its design, called 'Til the Last Drop, but the scrawl of its outdoor menu only seems to have various types of bloods being peddled. Luckily their destination lies past all of them, and its very inviting signage has his eyes nearly doubling in size. "MEGA pancakes!?" Turns out there are some good things to discover around here. "Maybe I'll skip eating it and just cozy up with them like a cloud bed. A cloud bed that smells really good." Sans syrup and butter of course, he's not a psychopath. There's also no way he wouldn't be eating it, but a bed made out of pancakes does have a certain appeal to it.
The rain departs as they step under the canopy of the cafe, and after telling the hostess they'd like a table for two, he busies himself brushing off the rain that clings to her back so she won't sit and have it slowly soak through. Though nearby fires dance in ready application of heat and the promise of drying them out.
Kaisel
The perfect mix of Saturday night and the rest of your life
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
